Street Dog

by Dan Overgaard

Submissively, she sits where she’s been yanked,
not looking up with anything like hope.
She knows her faithfulness will not be thanked
and feels the random anger on the rope
that gives a jerky guidance to her days.
Concrete and rain are all her bed and shade;
the mystery’s how she got here, why she stays.
The rope fetched her, it’s not a choice she made,
though pulling it, she can’t consider flight.
She can’t express this nuance with a bark.
Perhaps there’s some compassion late at night
when weakness can be hidden in the dark.

Sidekick though kicked, not licked however scarred—
when will you be released for your reward?